That leaf trembled slightly in Dou Sheng’s palm.

The afternoon sun was intense. Xie Lan, wearing a simple, refreshing white T-shirt, seemed to blend into the bright white background of his surroundings. Yet, whenever he moved slightly, his silhouette became distinct again.

Dou Sheng held up the sycamore leaf—if he focused only on this point in the air near him, the leaf was very close, every vein distinct, while Xie Lan in the distance became out of focus, leaving only a good-looking blur in his field of vision.

This composition was something he used to see every day.

Back then, that person would project ripples of water or patterns of light onto a screen. He would stand between the projector and the screen, his shadow while playing the violin descending upon the water ripples and light patterns—distant, ethereal, yet clear. In the close-up shots, there was always a sycamore leaf placed on a small wooden table. Sometimes Dou Sheng would stare intently at that shadow pushing and pulling the bow; other times, he would just count the veins on the leaf one by one.

When HBlood reached its climax, that quiet leaf would occasionally tremble gently, as if it too was shivering with excitement.

In those sleepless days, days spent tearing himself apart in a tug-of-war with life, he fell asleep every night listening to Xie Lan’s violin. The background statistics on his phone showed YouTube as the app with the longest daily runtime. He was so familiar with every piece that he could close his eyes and, just by listening to the sound, recall Xie Lan’s detailed movements in his mind—the arc of his arm, the sway of his body.

Later, Dou Sheng walked out of the darkness, but that companion disappeared from the app.

In reality, he hadn’t known the real Xie Lan for very long. Initially, he did think Xie Lan was a bit awkward and cute, and having returned to the country alone after his mother passed away, he was a bit pitiable. But he never imagined that this person who suddenly fell from the sky was the original intention, the chuxin, he had lost for so long.

The fever-induced impulse when Xie Lan was sick had created a massive wave in his heart.

---

The score was announced, and the players on the court dispersed.

After overdrawing his stamina, Xie Lan felt terrible all over; his arms and legs didn’t feel like they belonged to him. He walked over with a weary look and said to Dou Sheng, “The owls are really motivated; such loud screams even for a practice match.”

Dou Sheng seemed to be spacing out. Hearing him speak, he snapped back to reality and casually stuffed the leaf into his pocket. “Using ‘such high cheers’ would be more appropriate. ‘Screams’ refers to a superficial behavior; what you want to express is that everyone really wanted to win, right?”

“Oh.” Xie Lan unscrewed a bottle of mineral water and sighed. “Sorry, my Chinese language system crashed after excessive exercise.”

Che Ziming and the others ran over. Before Xie Lan could react, thump, he took a punch to the shoulder.

It didn’t hurt much, but he was stunned by the hit.

Che Ziming roared, “Lan! You were so f*cking awesome!”

Dou Sheng frowned, reached out, and pushed him away. “Cut out your savage behavior. Keep an arm’s length distance.”

“I swear I’ve discovered you’re sick in the head.” Che Ziming reached back and punched Dou Sheng too. “This is a victor’s ritual! Isn’t this our tradition?”

Dou Sheng curled his lip faintly. “It’s a new century. Switch to civilized methods, thanks.”

Dai You spun an empty coffee bottle, glancing at Dou Sheng. “Is the civilized method standing on the sidelines acting cool and blowing on leaves?”

Just as Dou Sheng was about to answer, Dai You sighed and patted his shoulder. “I’ve noticed your spirits have been a little too high lately. Tone it down, Male God. I heard several girls from Class 12 off-court planning their strategy to capture you.”

Wang Gou, with a hoarse voice, said to Xie Lan, “And you. You’re in the plan too.”

Xie Lan subconsciously glanced toward the gathering of Class 12 girls opposite them. “Planning for two people at the same time?”

“They said they have difficulty choosing, so they’re willing to make do with either.”

Dou Sheng smiled faintly. “Dreams have everything.” He casually draped his jacket over his arm, put a hand in his pocket, and started walking back.

A gust of wind blew, gently lifting his hair back. Xie Lan fell half a step behind, his gaze lingering on Dou Sheng’s side profile for a moment.

Dou Sheng suddenly asked, “By the way, you play the violin, so why do you also play basketball?”

Xie Lan snapped out of it. “When I was little, I wanted to be a professional violinist, so I didn’t dare play ball. Later, in middle school, I suddenly developed a huge interest in math and decided to treat the violin as a hobby, so there weren’t so many restrictions.”

He paused, then added, “But I don’t play often. My stamina isn’t good. Running constantly is annoying.”

Dai You tsked. “‘Developed a huge interest in math’…”

The five of them reached the end of the small playground, about to turn toward the school building, when the wind suddenly carried a faint shout—irritable, yet tinged with despair.

“Crap!” Che Ziming slapped his thigh. “We left Herring behind.”

From one or two hundred meters away, the dark cloud over Yu Fei’s face was clearly visible, the kind that could strike down lightning and kill someone at any moment.

Che Ziming went back to help him hobble over. Yu Fei was so angry he had lost the ability to speak. Only after a long time did he mutter speechlessly, “How the hell did I end up with hammer-headed friends like you guys?”

---

During evening self-study, Xie Lan began preparing the topic for Wednesday’s debate club activity.

—— Should gender symbols exist?

He spread his notebook on the desk, copied the topic neatly, and then fell into a long silence.

Writing and rewriting, by the time class was almost over, he had barely managed to write half a page.

Out of the corner of his eye, a certain someone kept glancing at his notebook, the corners of his mouth tight as if afraid he would burst out laughing the next second.

After being stared at for a long time, Xie Lan shut down. He put down his pen and said speechlessly, “What are you looking at?”

Dou Sheng glanced at Old Qin on the podium and whispered, “I kind of want to help you, but I don’t know how to bring it up tactfully.”

Xie Lan: “…”

“Were you assigned to the proposition or opposition?”

“Proposition.” Xie Lan frowned. “My stance is that gender symbols should exist. It’s a bit hard. I’ve been writing for a long time and haven’t listed many arguments. Mainly…”

“Xie Lan.” Old Qin suddenly called out from the front. “What are you saying to Dou Sheng?”

Xie Lan’s heart went cold. He silently put down his notebook and stood up.

The owls all turned their heads to stare. Old Qin, keeping a straight face, said, “I’ve been watching you two for a while. What are you talking about?”

Dou Sheng immediately said, “Discussing the organization and presentation of arguments.”

“Oh?” Old Qin paused. “I don’t recall assigning an essay today.”

Xie Lan sighed internally and answered truthfully, “It’s the topic for the debate competition.”

“Debate competition???”

The class instantly exploded.

Ignoring the teacher still standing on the podium, Che Ziming turned around to look up at Xie Lan. “You? Participating in a debate competition? In Chinese?”

Dou Sheng rolled up a workbook and bonked him on the head. “Turn back around!”

Old Qin also opened his mouth and stared at Xie Lan for a while. Only after a long time did he press his hand down, signaling him to sit.

“Prepare your stuff. I’m just reminding you, the math placement test is over. In principle, discussion is not allowed during evening self-study. Keep quiet.”

“Okay, teacher.” Xie Lan sighed silently, sat down, and continued burying his head in writing arguments.

Dou Sheng stopped talking, and the class fell quiet.

But not long after, Xie Lan felt the hairs on his body start to stand up one by one, as if a strange magnetic field was approaching. He lifted his eyes slightly from the paper and saw Old Qin’s gray sweatpants passing by him, cautiously.

Xie Lan’s pen tip paused. Two seconds later, he jerked his head back.

Old Qin instantly withdrew his gaze, standing in the back row to monitor the class. He “accidentally” lowered his head to meet Xie Lan’s eyes and threw him a smiling, inquiring look.

“Do you need Teacher’s help?” He smiled at Xie Lan with fatherly love.

Xie Lan felt numb. He turned back expressionlessly. “No, thank you, teacher.”

He lowered his head and wrote a few more words, feeling the gaze from behind land on his notebook again.

Then, he seemed to hear the erratic breathing of a middle-aged man trying hard to suppress laughter.

Xie Lan simply moved the wrist covering his words and turned back to ask, “Is something written incorrectly?”

Old Qin hastily put away his smile and whispered, “None of it is quite right.”

Xie Lan: “…”

Old Qin cleared his throat before pointing at the notebook. “‘Nan Nu¨ You Bie‘ (Men and women are different) cannot support your point. This idiom refers to the strict distinction between men and women in social roles and duties. It carries a strong color of feudal ethical codes. It seems to fit your stance, but it’s easily counterattacked. After all, feudal things are meant to be abolished.”

Xie Lan frowned and digested this for a while. “What are feudal ethical codes?”

Old Qin: “Well…”

Dou Sheng pinched his own thigh and whispered from the side, “‘Hong Nan Lu¨ Nu¨’ (Red men, green women) refers to young men and women wearing various clothes. It doesn’t advise people to assign different color distinctions to men and women. Also, ‘Nan Mo Nu¨ Lei‘ (Men silent, women tears) doesn’t reflect innate personality differences. That’s an internet slang term, mainly regarding romantic feelings.”

The surrounding area fell into a weird, deathly silence.

Che Ziming and Wang Gou, who had been busy studying, both expressionlessly removed their hands from their desks and pinched their thighs.

From behind Xie Lan came a ghostly sigh from Old Qin. Old Qin gently patted his shoulder and said, word by word, “Teacher really likes you too much.”

Xie Lan felt as if his soul had been sucked out.

Once Old Qin left, he drew a massive X on the paper, voiding everything he had just written, and said gloomily, “I just picked some potentially relevant words from the dictionary index first. I hadn’t had time to filter them yet.”

Dou Sheng tore off a piece of paper, scribbled a line of words, and pushed it in front of him. “Here comes the NPC’s clue for clearing the level.”

The “clue” was a line of English. The handwriting was chic and fluid, easily the best English writing Xie Lan had seen in the class.

Gender Symbol ≠ Gender Discrimination.

Dou Sheng whispered, “Behind this topic is gender discrimination. Your stance is mainly to prove that gender symbols can establish a channel of understanding and respect between men and women. As long as it’s moderate, it won’t induce discrimination. You can write the draft in English first, translate it, and then dig through the news for current events.”

Xie Lan’s eyes lit up. “That is indeed a good approach.”

“But of course.” Dou Sheng smiled. “It’s Teacher Dou, after all.”

---

Although switching approaches made things much smoother, the burden of translation and replacing arguments was still heavy.

Wednesday morning, Xie Lan was woken by the bell. He pulled the quilt over his head, half-asleep, and fumbled for his phone, obsessively wanting to continue searching for case studies.

However, his homepage refreshed with a few things that didn’t look quite right—Xie Lan’s Weibo was a pure alt account. He followed several active users in the “Ren Jian Jue Shuai Dou” Super Topic, mostly fans who produced fan art of cartoon Dou-beans daily, including the fan who made the Thousand Layers of Tricks video last time.

Last night, in the middle of the night, this group of people had posted several Weibos in succession.

– This rhythm is being led by a certain someone. As long as everyone knows the score, that’s enough.

– Don’t go argue. Douzi is on Bilibili every night; do you think he didn’t see it? If he ignores it, he just doesn’t want to deal with it.

– Ignoring it… I’m just speechless.

– I cast an Avada Kedavra! Lemon essence (jealous people), get the hell out!

Xie Lan jumped out to Baidu several times before he understood that “rhythm” (Jiezou) had to be read together with “led” (Dai) [meaning to instigate drama]. “Avada Kedavra” was obviously Voldemort’s killing curse. “Lemon essence” meant jealous people. The netizens’ word-creation logic might have borrowed from Dai Wangshu.

Dou Sheng’s fans usually just hyped themselves up. If they were being sarcastic, there could only be one reason.

Xie Lan threw off the quilt, sat up, and put on his headphones.

Night God (Ye Shen) had posted a Weibo in the middle of the night—

[Everyone misunderstood. I’m living quite happily. My future is focused on three directions: Games, Humor, and Music. Also, the 2D world isn’t my everything. I’m a prospective high school senior with good grades. I know what I want.]

Xie Lan stared at the word “Music” on the screen for a while, tilted his head back, and squinted his eyes.

Dou Sheng also threw off his quilt and sat up, yawning. “Morning. Eyes uncomfortable?”

Xie Lan murmured, “I suspect I’m… uh, what do you call it when you see things that don’t exist?”

Dou Sheng frowned and thought. “Hallucinating?”

“I suspect I’m hallucinating.” Xie Lan shook his head vigorously and looked at the screen carefully again.

It wasn’t a hallucination. This person seriously listed music as one of his three major career directions.

Confused, Xie Lan clicked on the little TV icon (Bilibili).

Night God had submitted an entry for the last event too, but the stats were pretty average; he didn’t even make the homepage poster. He hadn’t updated for the past few days, nor posted any status updates. He just livestreamed playing games for a while last night.

Xie Lan found a fan recording. one of the clips was titled “Truth.” The description roughly explained the context: Night God lost seven or eight rounds of competitive games in a row yesterday. After switching to a gacha game, he spent three thousand yuan without seeing a gold light. His mental state collapsed, and he vented a few sentences in the livestream room.

Xie Lan glanced at Dou Sheng, who was getting out of bed like nothing was wrong, and turned the headphone volume down a bit.

“State’s not good. I’ll chat with the bullet comments for a bit and then log off. Won’t be streaming recently.”

“I’m not unhappy. I just feel like my luck has been bad lately. When a person is unlucky, they should rest. No, it’s not about the low views on the last video. Video stats fluctuate naturally; I don’t really care about that.”

Night God looked at the comments, looking a bit lost. After a while, he lowered his voice. “I just feel that some people use all their effort to barely get a tiny bit of success, but unlike others, they don’t ride the east wind or know how to utilize the resources around them. The naive, honest fools will soon be surpassed.”

Xie Lan’s fist hardened.

Dou Sheng knocked on his bed rail from below. “What are you doing? Come down, the sponge cake in the cafeteria is going to run out.”

He still had the mood to eat sponge cake.

Xie Lan asked, “What does ‘ride the east wind’ mean?”

“Huh?” Dou Sheng’s voice suddenly became serious. “You watched Night God’s recording?”

Xie Lan looked cold. He didn’t make a sound and continued scrolling.

Sure enough, sorting the comments on Dou Sheng’s persona video by time, the newest ones were all sarcastic.

– So the BGM for this video was made by that UP who’s good at violin?

– Wow, I’ve followed the UP for a long time. From before New Year’s to March, he only gained a few thousand fans. How come his fans suddenly exploded by over two hundred thousand recently?

– Fan growth speed is riding a rocket.

– No, the fan growth speed is riding a violin. (Dog head emoji for survival/sarcasm)

“It’s all people inciting drama,” Xie Lan frowned and whispered.

Dou Sheng looked impressed. “Inciting drama (Dai jiezou)? You even know this term?”

“Just looked it up. My understanding is forcibly lowering other people’s IQ.”

Below them, Dai You laughed. “Xie Lan actually has quite a talent for self-media.”

Dou Sheng smiled faintly. “More than just talent…”

Xie Lan was a bit speechless. “Do you not feel even a little ripple in your heart?”

“What is there to feel?”

Dou Sheng remained indifferent. He pulled a clean white shirt from the wardrobe, shook it out in the air, and put it on.

He buttoned it nonchalantly. “Night God, the guy, is a bit annoying. But he doesn’t have much ambition. He only knows how to be passive-aggressive. Similar dramas happen at least four times a year, rehearsed for you according to spring, summer, autumn, and winter. If I miss a season, I’d actually feel unaccustomed to it.”

Xie Lan felt suffocated. “You…”

“If you meet an idiot outside, do you drag your whole family out to fight them? I’m just a UP. I’m a UP to produce high-quality content, not to drag my fans into arguments every day. Besides, my ‘original intention’ has awakened recently. I’m happy from head to toe. I hold everything else in contempt, understand?”

As Dou Sheng spoke, he looked up and smiled at Xie Lan. “I say, kid on the bed, are you eating breakfast or not? Sponge cake happens once a week. Sweet, soft, and tender. Even those from the UK say it’s good.”

Xie Lan sighed, listlessly locked his phone. “Eating.”

He understood the logic. Xie Lan had encountered similar situations often enough as a YouTuber. He didn’t care when it was about himself, but when it happened to someone close to him, he still felt a bit stifled.

---

After lunch, Xie Lan took a leave slip and returned to the classroom alone to do the daily livestream he had promised the fans.

The classroom curtains had two layers, one sheer and one cloth. He pulled the sheer layer shut, softening the afternoon light in the lens. Then he set up the laptop Dou Sheng lent him on the side, adjusted the field of view, and ensured his hands and notebook were in the frame.

Not long after starting the stream, the number of bullet comments surged.

– Finally waited for it!

– Wow, I refreshed and it’s here.

– You said 12:50! You’re exactly six minutes late!

– Good afternoon, Lan-zai.

– Sob sob sob, Lan-zai’s hands are an opening shocker. So beautiful.

“Good afternoon,” Xie Lan greeted. “I have class this afternoon, so I’ll just stream for forty minutes. I’m preparing for a debate competition recently. I need to write the draft based on the materials I collected earlier. I have to use it tonight.”

– Good lord!

– I remember Lan-zai said his Chinese was average.

– Returning from overseas and immediately participating in a Chinese debate? Ambitious!

– Want to see Lan-zai write!

A study stream didn’t require much talking. Xie Lan picked a violin piece he had recorded himself as BGM, put on his headphones, lowered his head, and focused on his work.

His phone was on silent beside him. He occasionally checked the comments.

The comments chatted happily.

– The lighting is so good. This song is so soothing.

– Relaxed. Comfortable.

– Have you guys noticed, Lan-zai’s handwriting and his person aren’t quite the same…

– Yeah…

– Since switching from a fountain pen in second grade, I haven’t seen handwriting this big.

– Yes, Cub, you can’t have handwriting this ugly.

– Let Big Cat teach you! I remember Douzi’s handwriting is super nice.

– To be honest, the writing is ugly, but the hands are really beautiful.

– Flipping the dictionary, flipping the dictionary. Lan-zai isn’t flipping a dictionary, he’s flipping my heart.

– Person in front, have some reserve…

– Wait… why did Lan-zai write the speech draft for ten minutes, flip the dictionary for seven minutes, and spend two minutes flipping the idiom dictionary?

– Oh my god, he looks like he’s here to livestream selling dictionaries.

– I’m sold. The hardback English-Chinese, the softcover Xinhua… they both look so useful.

Xie Lan only glanced at the comments occasionally, not interacting much.

– Say something, Lan-zai.

– You aren’t really going to autistically study for forty minutes and then go offline, are you?

– Sob sob sob, you can’t be this cold!

Xie Lan paused. “Don’t really want to talk. Next time.”

– Why?

– So you’re a cool guy.

– You sound a bit unhappy today.

– Whispering: Is it because of that thing?

– Person in front, better not ask…

Xie Lan didn’t make a sound and continued writing his draft.

– Sigh.

– Lan-zai, don’t take it to heart.

– The environment on Little Broken Station (Bilibili) is actually pretty good. Individual fans are just like that. Really just a few. We can’t help it.

– Just lie flat and let go like Douzi.

– Dying of laughter. Douzi is a veteran lying-flat master.

– Pfft. Rascal Dou’s response was shameless enough. As expected of the UP I like.

Response?

Xie Lan’s pen tip paused. He hesitated, then put down the pen and tapped open Dou Sheng’s homepage outside the camera frame.

Five minutes ago, Dou Sheng had posted a status.

@Ren Jian Jue Shuai Dou: EM (Demon) is so good. Hope he continues to take me flying in the future. Flying up to the sky to stand shoulder to shoulder with the sun. All my coins go to him.

Xie Lan: “???”

– What did Xie Lan go to look at?

– His fist seems to have hardened.

– Hahaha, don’t tell me he went to see Douzi’s response.

– DM is a salted fish UP, EM is an enterprising UP. Tsk tsk.

– I just like how indifferent and free Douzi is.

– Exactly. Who can do anything to Dou!

– I’m lying down too. You guys do whatever. Grass.

Xie Lan read that status repeatedly, then looked at the comments, feeling a bit helpless but also finding it a bit funny.

But the comments weren’t wrong. Dou Sheng was just like that. After spending a long time together, he had to admit that this indifferent temperament did have a certain charm.

He took a deep breath, lowered his head, and continued writing.

The comments returned to daily chatter, but not long after, a wave of strange warnings suddenly flooded the screen.

– Holy sht, seems like someone came in.*

– Damn, it’s the ghost.

– The wolf is coming, children, run!!

Xie Lan paused, scrolled up the system notifications by two screens, and found “@YoungNoblemanNightGod entered the livestream room.”

Then, gift effects bloomed on the screen. Night God typed a sentence in the public chat: Lost games yesterday, was in a bad mood. Didn’t mean to insinuate anyone. Just sent a DM to Douzi to clarify and apologize. Came here to apologize to Little Brother Xie Lan too. Don’t take it to heart.

The comments exploded. There was mockery, cursing, but mostly people were jaw-dropped by this showy operation.

Xie Lan didn’t make a sound, as if he hadn’t seen anything. He had just written two paragraphs of the debate draft, but he calmly flipped the notebook to the next page and pulled the laptop closer, ensuring the camera was shoved right up against every word on the paper.

Then, he earnestly wrote down the four-character title on the first line: [Idiom Accumulation]. He even noted today’s date and wrote the weather: Sunny, light breeze.

Xie Lan skillfully flipped through the idiom dictionary with his left hand, and rapidly copied definitions with his right.

[Zhu Gou Bu Ru – Worse than Pigs and Dogs]: Low character, extremely bad conduct, inferior even to pigs and dogs.

[Hou Yan Wu Chi – Thick-skinned and Shameless]: Describes a person with thick skin who knows no shame. From Classic of Poetry · Minor Odes · Clever Words.

[Wei Fei Zuo Dai – Do Evil and Commit Crimes]: Doing all kinds of bad things. From The Story of Liu Yi Transmitting the Letter.

[Qing Zhu Nan Shu – Too Many Crimes to Record]: Describes crimes so numerous they cannot be finished writing. From Old Book of Tang · Biography of Li Mi.

The comments were silent for a long time, and then a wall of question marks and exclamation marks flooded the screen. Young Nobleman Night God went silent.

But Xie Lan knew he couldn’t have left yet.

So he continued to leisurely write down two more.

[Zi Dao Zi Yan – Self-directed and Self-acted]: Describes planning a script oneself and completing it with one’s own efforts (creating one’s own drama).

[Shi Ren Ya Hui – Picking up Others’ Spit]: Metaphor for plagiarism or applying what others have said.

The comments had already turned into an ocean of joy. Xie Lan paused. At the very top of the three rows and two columns—six idioms in total—he wrote a four-character horizontal scroll (Hengpi), stroke by stroke.

Ma De Jian Ren (Damn Bitch/Wretch).

Xie Lan let out a breath and said as if relieved of a heavy burden, “Today’s livestream ends here. The Chinese language is beautiful, powerful, broad, and profound. I am very happy learning it. It is an honor to be Chinese.”

He paused, then added, “Today’s learning content is exclusive to me, original, and has nothing to do with other UPs, ha.”

Then, he went offline at light speed.

---

Author’s Note:

The one typing at the keyboard picks up the Lazy Egg: “Heard you scolded the little chicken egg from the neighboring egg house until it cried?”

The Lazy Egg said in shock: “When did that happen! Why don’t I remember?”

“Still pretending?!” The one typing roared: “The neighboring egg house came to complain!”

The Lazy Egg thought for a while upon hearing this: “Oh, you mean that mentally disabled egg that talks about Bean Egg behind his back?”

It paused, then whispered in defense: “Didn’t scold it. Just offered it beautiful blessings.”

The one typing was shocked: ” You wished for their ‘chicken to fly and egg to break’ (total failure)?”

The Lazy Egg nodded vigorously: “Mhm! Also wished for its egg to shatter all over the ground.”